


A Weapon Protects Their Miester

by sheepishshipper



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Anime/Manga - Freeform, F/M, SoMa - Freeform, canon!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepishshipper/pseuds/sheepishshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set Anime/Manga verse right after the Kishin's rise. After getting injured from crashing into a cart with Maka on top of him, Soul has to get them both home, and Maka is revisited by some painful memories after she finds out Soul was yet again injured because of her. Implied (maybe pre?) SoMa in the actual oneshot, SoMa in the extra. Rated T for adult language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Weapon Protects Their Miester

**Author's Note:**

> Just here to put in this is Anime Verse (I dun remember how it went in the manga, but I’m pretty sure it went the same-ish) and that it takes place during the Kishin’s rise/after (I dun remember the episodes XD)
> 
> Rated T for adult language.
> 
> That’s all, Please enjoy, and please keep in mind I’m new to this XD

It’s pitch black and there's rubble around them, dirt and rocks falling on them, and then there's moonlight, and they're flying up, up to the clouds, to the moon with its bloody smile.

And then they're falling.

"Maka!" He yells, but he can tell she's past her limits. She must have gotten struck by the falling debris. He morphs back into human form as they fall, and grabs her arm, pulling her towards him and shifting so she's on top him before locking his arms around her.

And they're falling, just for a moment, wind pulling at their hair and clothes. Soul grits his sharpened teeth, waiting.

And then they aren't falling anymore.

He crashes into a cart, pain exploding from his spine and panning out, so jarring he can feel it all throughout his body. The force of the impact crushes the rotted wood of the cart, and Soul settles in the debris and dust with Maka unconscious on top of him. Soul squeezes his eyes shut as he feels blood well from the places where the wood splintered against his back. He opens his eyes once more, keeping his teeth gritted as he sits up slightly, leaning on one of his elbows, testing his arms and legs by tensing slightly. The cart seems to have softened their fall. Soul realizes things would be much worse if it hadn't. But he can worry about the state of himself later as he pushes the unconscious miester off his chest, shaking her slightly.

"Maka!" Panic consumes him at once, but he calms as he realizes she's breathing, he can feel it against his chest. He holds her with one arm, peering upward at the sky. There's a figure with cloth hanging off of him floating in the sky, surrounded by red... Power. Power is the only word to describe the vibrating air that Soul can feel from where he's sitting.

"Is that the kishin?" As if awakened by the word, Maka's eyes flutter open, and she lifts a shaking hand towards the sky. Soul directs his attention to his injured partner.

"Maka?" He says, and it's a question, because he's confused by her actions.

"I... I have to.... Stop... The kishin..." She drops off, and her hand falls again. She returns to the depths of unconsciousness. He stares at her for a moment before his features soften, and he chuckles lightly.

“You're something else you know that." And now that he's sitting up completely, he locks his arms around his partner once more, and turns his face up to the sky in time to see black ropes attach themselves to the kishin’s limbs.

"What the..." He utters, and then there's a figure approaching, and he turns his head to see none other than Lord Death himself. They appear to be exchanging words, before the kishin snaps the ropes off his body as if they were troublesome strings to be pulled off clothing. More words are exchanged before the vibration in the air increases exponentially and the kishin fires a blow that Death easily deflects. Soul grins, his pointed teeth easily seen.

"Now that's pretty cool." Soul considers staying to watch the battle, as it will probably be a once in a life time, future decisive battle, but one look at his partner, and he knows he needs to get her home to rest. So he sends a final fleeting glance to the war above them, before setting Maka against a nearby plank, brushing the rubble off his pants, and moving to stand.

He is surprised by the excruciating pain that flames throughout his body as he moves to stand, so he falls back again with a curse, and grits his teeth as he pushes himself up with the nearby debris. He uses a plank to keep himself steady while he waits for the pain to dissipate, then lets it fall to the ground. He bends down to pick Maka up, and he wonders why he even bothered waiting, because movement aggravated his back further and the pain was hotter than before. But, he supposed almost getting cut in half was worse by far, and no way was he leaving Maka under a battle he was starting to think would level the city. He shifts her on to his back, with a fleeting, moronic prayer that she wouldn't be too pissed if he got a little blood on her jacket again. He steps forward, and the jolt from taking a step almost drops him to his knees, and it would have if he hadn't locked his knees in place just in time.

"Holy crap..." He mutters. He idly decides that falling from a good twenty foot drop in to a wooden cart is defiantly not on a list of things he'd like to repeat. He takes another step, and is greeted by a jolt of equal ferocity, so he decides to suck it up, and grits his teeth hard enough he thinks he might actually chip them, and continues forward a slow step at a time, until the pain begins to dull slightly, or maybe he's just getting used to the feeling. He decides against picking up the pace, and after a thirty minute trek that should have only taken fifteen Soul arrives at their apartment complex only to realize he miscalculated gravely.

There are steps.

He'd forgotten about the steps.

He'd forgotten about the stairs.

He lets out a ragged breath before lifting his foot and placing it on the step. But, as he shifted his weight to go upward, the pain that had since dulled came back with a vengeful ferocity, and before he could do anything, his knee gives and he stumbles into a kneel, keeping his hands locked under Maka's legs.

"Shit..." He breathes out in a shaky puff, breathing uneven as he tries to pull it together. 'Common Soul this is so uncool, you're acting like a wimp...' He growls to himself. He wonders idly where that little fucker of a demon is now. But he can't seem to pull himself up off the step, his muscles won't listen and he exhausted. He wonders idly when his arms started shaking. 'Move!' Soul yells internally, but it's too much, he's reached his limit. Something shifts behind him.

"...mhnn...”

"....Shit." He mutters again, still trying to get his breathing back into normal rhythm. Then she speaks, muffled and quiet but he can distinguish it.

"You shouldn't say things like that, Soul..." Soul grins despite it all and says,

"Welcome back... to the land... of the living," in between breaths. She shifts her weight, and a hiss of pain slips from his lips without his permission. She stops, but Soul can feel her tense.

"Soul, what's wrong?" Her voice is quiet but stern, and he would sigh if it wasn't getting really hard to manage his breath.

"Nothin'. Don't worry about it." He's still kneeling. ‘Move, gotta move now.' He thinks to himself, and pools whatever strength he has left together, and in a quick movement pushes himself up right. He sways and stumbles backwards a step, the movement sending a jolt of fire through his nerves, but manages to stay up right. His heavy breaths echo around them as he stands still, and each one sends jolts of burning agony through his spine.

"Soul." Maka says. It's louder now, stern, serious, and uncompromising. He knows what she means immediately, and stills himself completely, holding his breath. Then he lets go of her legs and, the duo forever in perfect sync, at the same time Maka releases his neck, landing agilely on the floor. Soul gasps before snapping his mouth shut as he stumbles forward, and would have ended up back on his knees if Maka hadn't steadied him the instant she was in her feet, her hand gripping his upper arm and keeping him up right. He leans into her slightly.

"What happen?" She asked quietly. The only reply she got for a while was harsh breath, then Soul grits out,

"Well falling twenty feet into a wooden cart does this to a person." Her eyes widened. She's about to ask when that happened, but then she realizes she remembers grabbing on to the Kishin, and heading up into the tunnel after him, but not leaving it.

"But why is the only thing wrong with me a pounding headache?" She says, confused. And then, oh. _Oh._

"I landed on top of you." She says dully, pulling away slightly but still supporting him. For another moment, all that's heard is heavy breath, and Soul can practically hear her thinking.

"It's not your fault." He says, and he just knows she's going to open up her mouth to protest, so he adds, "And we can discuss that later because right now I'd really like for my butt to hit a seat. Or more preferably, a mattress." He leans away, and pulls his arm out of her unsuspecting grasp, lurching forward to do so. He can get to his room, he's sure of it. He hears a protest start behind him, he makes to step forward, his balance system still reacting to the previous lurch forward, leaning him backwards to keep him up right, and he stumbles back a step instead, his knee giving out as his weight shifts to one foot in order to lift the other. He starts to fall backwards Maka flashes a hand out but it’s too late. Soul grits his teeth, and for a piece of a second he's falling again, until the concrete rushes up to meet him. He smashes into the ground, white hot agony pouring into veins and wrapping around his lungs, squeezing the all air out of them. His skull cracks against the sidewalk and the force jars his teeth, makes his ears ring, and spins his mind. He's starting to wonder if maybe getting almost cut in half and passing out from shock and pain and blood loss was actually better than this, than being awake through the brunt of the pain. And then he's lying there, trying to get his lungs working and closing his eyes so the world doesn't spiral away. He feels warmth at his side and a hand on his chest, and then words.

"Soul just breathe." She states, and while her words are icy calm there's a shudder behind them that only he would be able to detect. He manages to get his diaphragm working properly, and inhales deeply before breathing out a muttered "fuck". His eyes are still squeezed shut, and he wonders if she'll notice the dampness surrounding them. As if on cue she brushes her fingers next to his eyes, and Soul would groan if it was worth the effort. He's not some weak thing to be taken care of. He wishes he could push himself up and say "I'm fine" and walk away like he normally does, but he knows he isn't capable of it now, maybe not even earlier before he screwed up walking. How uncool.

He stays like that for a while, breathing harshly on the ground, not even wanting to think about how he's going to have to move eventually. Eventually, Maka speaks softly.

"Soul?" She leaves it hanging, an unspoken question.

"Yeah." He replies, and it's a statement, but shaky and unsure. She puts a hand on his upper arm and waits. Another few moments of breath. "Yeah." He says again, and it's strong and steady. She released his arm to stand, before reaching down as he reached up. She grips just above the bend of his elbow and he does the same, and they wait for a moment, before Soul nods, holding his breath. In a quick movement, she pulls him up, and he gasps, then they're both standing and she's got a tight grip on his arm again, holding him up. He hates being so fucking helpless. They stand still as statues, and Soul barely realizes she's got such a tight grip that  his fingers are starting to numb, with the fierce burning pain radiating out from his spine like a wildfire, untamed and unchecked. He nods again, and they start forward, and he hisses with the movement, but before she can suggest they stop and ask for help, he takes another step. They manage to get up the steps and into the complex, and Maka asks to use the elevator to Soul's displeasure, which the manager kindly unlocks.

"I can make it up the damn stairs." He mutters, and Maka deadpans back,

"No you can't." Soul would have glared at her but it would have been a rather sad sight to see with his eyes glazed over with the shine of the tears of pain he refuses to let fall, so he keeps his eyes squeezed shut and grits his teeth harder. They manage to get into their apartment, and a few pained hisses later Maka's managed to get Soul in his bed, before leaving to call the academy.

She picks up the phone in the living area and dials the number of the infirmary for academy students. Stein answers instantly.

"Hello?" He drawls, and there's a lot of background noise.

"It's Maka. I'm calling about Soul." She replies quickly.

"As in, to see if he's here or get him here?"

"Get him there, some-" Stein cuts her off.

"Is he in immediate danger?"

"What do you mean?" She asked carefully in reply.

"As in is he bleeding to death on the floor in front of you again," Maka flinches at the memory, "is he lying with a limb crushed stuck somewhere, is he not breathing or in danger of not breathing soon?" Stein asks, exasperated. Someone calls for him in the background.

"Well, no, but-"

"Then he's low priority and is ordered to stay home and rest until notified otherwise." Stein says, and the calling grows more distraught, and Stein mutters a curse before saying, "I'm sorry Maka, bring him in if his condition worsens substantially." With that the receiver clicks and Maka is left with the end tone buzzing in her ear. She bites her lip and presses a hand to her throbbing head, before turning around and heading back into the bedroom. He's lying on his stomach in bed in the white shirt that was under his jacket. She can see the red on it. His eyes are still squeezed shut, jawline tense, when she speaks.

"Any better laying down?" She asks, and his eyes don't open, but she can see him forcibly relax his jaw.

"A lot actually." He says. He's not lying, not having to support his body weight and lying relaxed on the mattress really was a lot better. He hears foot steps towards him and a hand brush the skin slightly where the hem of his shirt had ridden up on his back. The contact is slight so the pain doesn't flare up, and he cracks an eye to stare back at her.

"What're you doing?" Soul asks, raising an eyebrow as he feels the hem of his shirt move up slightly.

"Checking those scratches. They'll need to be cleaned so they don't get infected." He groans.

"Tomorrow?" And there's a whine in his question, but it's serious at the same time.

"It can't wait, it's been a while already." She responds, her tone apologetic.

"And what about you? I'm positive you have a concussion. You should be resting." She shakes her head slightly, wary of worsening her head ache.

"I think I do to but it's not that bad right now, and there's no one else to do it. The infirmary is loaded, Tsubaki is busy with Black Star, and Liz and Patty are busy with Kid. If you’re up for it, I'd like to get it through now before my headache gets worse." Soul closes his eye again and nods.

Maka stands and walks into the kitchen, pulls the first add kit out of the cabinet, and returns to Soul's room. She sits on the bed next to him, and pushes his shirt up all the way.

She gasps, and reaches touch his back, but thinks better of it.

"Soul..." She whispers, shocked.

"Must be pretty bad." He jokes.

"How bad does it hurt...?”

"Pretty bad." Soul's voice is quiet and truthful.

The skin on his back is shredded. Not completely, some areas are still intact, but the broken planks of wood tore apart majority of his back, and a stitching of scratches litter his skin, the red blood stark against it. Majority of them were shallow skin wounds, but a few closer to his side, thankfully far from his spine, are much deeper, although the bleeding seemed to have stopped a while ago. In scratches and across his skin splinters of wood, most small but some the size of an infant’s pinkie, are imbedded deep, and any skin not cut up is a deep, angry, bruised, red.

She brushes a patch of intact skin with her fingers and he flinches, a jump of muscles in his back that tell her to retract her fingers.

"I've got to call the infirmary, you could have seriously injured your spinal cord from the fall, let alone all the movement you did after it!" She says quickly, distress evident in her voice.

"It's not that bad, I'm just a little banged up." Soul replies calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. The first aid and medical classes they took at the start or their training and the yearly refresher courses were probably the only classes he ever paid attention to, although the idea of actually having to use any of the serious stuff on Maka made him sick to his stomach.  Soul remembers the symptoms of a spinal cord injury because it was one of the ones classified as a major injury.

She stands to get the phone but Soul catches her wrist in a tight grip, turning his head to the side. Red eyes bleed into green as he stares her in the eye as he speaks.

"Maka, wait. It's not that bad I swear okay? I won't let you call them up for a bad bruise and a couple of scrapes, and I won't take up room in the infirmary. I know you know the symptoms of an actual spinal cord injury, I was sitting next to you in the damn classroom when we went over if year after year, and you know I have none of the symptoms. I'll be fine."

"But... Soul...” Her voice is quiet and distraught, and only then he realizes how worried she is. He reprimands himself internally, and gives her a toothy smile.

"I'm fine, okay?" Soul pushes everything he's got into the words, and Maka stares at him for a moment before she gives a small nod and sits back down on the mattress. She pulls out anything she might need from the first aid kit, and starts with the splinters embedded into his skin. An hour of finches, pained hisses, and muttered apologies later, Soul is patched up, and honestly pretty exhausted. There’s sweat on his brow, and Maka is reminded again of how much pain he had to be in.

“Did you want to change your shirt?” She asks in a quiet tone.

“Naw, it can wait till tomorrow, right?” She nods and Soul closes his eyes. “Then let’s leave it. Go get some rest and ice your head, Maka.”

“Okay, but call if you need something.”

“Yeah.” He replies with a yawn. She exits the room, closing the door softly behind her, before leaning heavily against it. _‘Why…Why does this keep happening?’_ She doesn't stop to listen to the answer. She goes to the freezer and grabs one of the ice packs they have sitting in there in case one of them needs it after they’ve obtained a kishin egg, holding it to her head as she morbidly contemplates why they would have ice packs for injuries on hand. Maka heads to her room, leaving the door open in case Soul called, curls up on her mattress under the covers, not bothering to change, and falls asleep holding the pack to her head.

She wakes up in a church. An oddly familiar church, with a high ceiling and artfully done arches. Dread fills her stomach, weighs her arms, but she doesn't know _why._ She can’t remember _why_ this place is so terrible, can’t remember _what_ makes the sight of it fills her heart with terror, and drowns her lungs in anguish.

The familiar weight of Soul in her hands isn't comforting like it usually would be, instead it’s just heightened the terror and the dread. Maka can feel the memory pushing at her mind, but it’s just out of reach, and she can’t pull it into view.

Soul’s yelling something through their link, but she can’t figure out what the words are, it’s too muffled to understand. Her visions fuzzy. Something’s not right, something’s going to-

In an instant, his voice cuts through, clear as a bell.

_“Maka!”_

Everything is crystal clear. Crona is charging towards them, and Maka realizes why this place is so terrifying.

Crona nears closer. He’s practically in front of them.

He raises his blade. Maka can’t move.

There’s blue light.

Soul stands in front of her, his back to her and arms out stretched.

Crona brings the blade down.

Her ears are ringing. There’s so much _blood._ She watches in shocked horror as Soul _crumples._ Blood pools around them, deep red and thick, as she drops to her knees besides him. Her visions blurry again, but this time it’s because tears are welling up in her eyes. She pulls him into her lap as Crona raises the blade again, Ragnorak’s sick laughter ringing in her ears.

 _“You idiot… Run…. Get out of here…”_ Then there’s nothing, no movement or sound, and it’s still as she clutches Soul in her arms and waits.

The blade comes down.

Maka gasps awake, and now she’s lying in bed, her heart beating frantically and skull pounding. Her eyes are wet, her throat is tight, her stomach’s in knots, and her heart _hurts_. She breathes deep, and her breath stutters, and then she’s throwing the blankets off herself and standing, keeping her steps quiet was she walks to Soul’s room. She sucks in a sharp breath, and slowly pushes the door open. Her heart stops for a moment when she sees the bloodied back of his shirt in the dim light, but she remembers why, and the air leaves her lungs once more when she sees his steady breathing. She moves to close the door.

“Maka?” His voice is gravely and groggy with sleep, “Why are you up? It’s like the middle of the night, and you should be resting with that concussion.” Maka swallows in a vain attempt to clear the tightness in her throat.

“I was just checking on you.” She replies, and her voice is hoarse and quiet. Maka can see Soul shift his head slightly to see her, and can feel his piercing gaze. “Sorry I woke you.” She moves to close the door, and hears him call out, but she doesn’t respond and heads back to her own room. Her hands are still shaking.

Soul curses, and can tell from her voice she’s lying to him, hiding something _again._ ‘Dammit, Maka.’ He thinks, and presses his hands into the mattress in an effort to push himself off the bed. Pain spikes in his back, and he hisses, but it’s a little bit less than earlier. He pulls his knees under him, and stays on his hands and knees for a moment, before slowly pushing himself to where he’s sitting his on legs, and carefully pulls them out of under him to hang them off the bed. ‘This better be important.’ He thinks idly, sitting for a moment, before standing. The movement sends a jolt of pain through his system, and he gasps, but now that the cuts and scrapes on his back aren’t burning, he just feels sorer than he ever has before. He makes his way to Maka’s room one slow step at a time. She’s left her door open so he stands with a hand bracing himself on the door frame and watches her for a moment. She’s sitting curled into herself, with a pillow on her knees and her arms around her legs. Her face is in the pillow, and her shoulders are shaking. The sight breaks his heart, and he sighs softly. He walks over slowly, footsteps soft, and drops on the bed the movement alerting Maka to his presence and her head jerks up, shocked. Soul instantly regrets sitting on the mattress so quickly, and he tenses up with a sharp breath, before relaxing again as the pain dulled once more.

“Soul? But- how- you shouldn’t be moving!” Maka sputters, and Soul looks away from her indignantly and says,

“Yeah well, if a certain miester hadn’t woken me up by entering my room, and then left the way they did, maybe I would still be sleeping in my bed.”

Maka looks down at the sheets guiltily, picking at a loose string. “Sorry.” She says, and Soul can tell the apology wasn’t for waking him up. He looks at her from the corner of his eye.

“ ‘s not your fault.” He says quietly. “But I don’t think it’s why you came in earlier.” He states a bit louder, the subject change stating the unsaid _‘and it’s not arguable.’_

“It’s nothing.” Maka muttered in return.

“Obviously not, if you felt the need to come check on me and then lie about why you were up.” Soul turns his head to look at her fully, staring at her straight in the eyes. His voice goes quiet again, “You can tell me about this stuff, we’re partners, Maka.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be.” She snaps back, her voice bitter and self-deprecating. Soul flinches, actually flinches, at the words, and gives her a shocked look.

“You don’t mean that.” He says in return, hating the under tone of desperation in his voice.

“It would be better for you Soul. You’d quit getting hurt because of me.” Her voice is still bitter, but the tone is softer now, more a suggestion than an actual solution. Soul sighs, and says simply,

“I don’t want another partner.”

“What if I left?” The words are quiet, small.

“I’d quit.”  He says, his voice a bit sad. It’s Maka’s turn to give him a shocked look. “There’s no other partner for me you idiot.” Maka gives him a confused look, asking without words, why me? Soul gives her a small grin and says in reply,

“There’s no other miester I’d be able to match wavelengths with, except for the Professor and his freaky soul wavelength maybe.” His tone is light and joking, but it drops lower and becomes more serious. “There’s no other miester I’d be willing to die for, no other miester I’d be willing to protect with my life.” Of course, Soul is willing to risk his life for his friends, but their protection falls to their own weapon. And no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t be able to match wavelengths with them the way he can with Maka, so they’d never fall into category of miester for him. And if Maka was to leave and they had him re-partnered with someone new, he isn’t sure he’d be able to classify them as his miester, or guarantee their protection. He also seriously thought there would be no one else who could match wavelengths with him unless the case was special. He probably really would quit, although he doubted he would go back to his parents’ house.

Maka gave him a small smile, and Soul knows they’ve resolved that for now.

“What caused all this anyway?” He asks softly. She looks away again, and it clicks for Soul. “Bad dream?” His tone is serious. She glances back at him and nods, before returning her gaze to the sheets. “About the church.” It’s more of a statement than a question. She nods again anyway. They sit in silence for a while. Soul sighs after a while.

“Scooch.” He says, poking her in her side. She gives him a confused look, the brief eye contact allowing Soul to see her eyes are still watery, and moves over, giving him half the mattress. Soul grits his teeth, and places his hands on the mattress, sitting for a moment before swinging his legs onto the bed.

“What’re you doing?” Maka asks, surprise and bewilderment tainting her voice. He squeezes his eyes shut, and sits for a moment before lowering himself carefully onto his back. Surprisingly enough, laying on his back doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, and he relaxes, crossing his arms and legs before looking over at Maka with a grin.

“Doing my job. A weapon’s supposed to protect their miester from danger, nightmares included.” She flushes red, and Soul closes his eyes, expecting a fabled Maka-Chop, except it doesn’t come. He cracks an eye-lid, and is surprised to see her smiling softly at her hands.

“Hey, Soul.” He opens his eyes completely.

“Yeah?”

“Just… Thanks.” She’s smiles at him, and he smiles softly in return.

“Yeah, yeah just get some sleep, dummy.” He replies with an undertone of fondness. She tosses him a corner of the blanket, and reaches over to turn out the light. Soul shuts his eyes as the light goes out, and shifts slightly to get a bit more comfortable on the pillow. He’s surprised by a hesitant brush of finger on his arm, and sighs again, more out of affection than annoyance. He lifts his arm, and Maka curls into his side. Soul settles his arm around her, and they’re both asleep in moments.

When Soul wakes up the next morning, he’s stiff, and his back’s killing him, but he thinks he’s never slept better in his life.

Maka sleeps through the rest of the night without a single bad dream.

*******

EXTRA

Maka stared at the yellow fabric in dismay. Soul entered the room with a yawn, walking close to the wall. Maka gives a morning greeting and eyes him. It’d been a week since his injury, and while he’s been healing quickly, she still catches him wincing or hissing in pain, or using the wall for support, too prideful and stubborn to ask for help.

“What’s that?” He asks groggily, settling carefully onto the couch next to her.

“It’s your jacket. I was going to try and fix it since I know it’s your favorite, but I’m not sure I can. The backs pretty torn up, and I could probably stitch up but I’m not sure how it would turn out, and then there’s…” She trails of, eyeing the now brown blood stains in the yellow.

“The blood stains?” He finishes for her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Basically, I’ll give it a shot, but it probably won’t be the same. I’m sorry Soul.” Soul stares at the jacket for a moment, before shrugging and turning his gaze to Maka. He grins at her.

“Naw its fine. I was thinking it was time for a change anyway.” He states, his tone mischievous and he leans over and pecks Maka on the lips. The gesture leaves her shocked long enough for him to get off the couch, snickering. She flushes bright red and says,

“I told you to quit doing that!” Soul laughs harder, and says,

“We’re dating now, what does it matter?” She glares at him, which only increases his laughter.

“It’s not funny!” She yells pouting. Souls stops laughing, snickers slipping out while he tries to catch his breath.

“But the look you get on your face adorable!” He grins at her, and her glare intensifies, which only serves to send him into another laughing fit. Maka fumes, grabs the nearest book, and Soul’s laughter cuts off instantly.

“Oh, shit.” He says, and he stumbles backwards in a vain attempt to get away.

“Maaaakaaaaaaaaa-CHOP!”

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo it’s sheepishshipper, and just a few notes on a few head-canons I’ve incorporated into this. The first one is the medicine classes, because I think if you’re gonna be fighting evil then you should have some basic training in first aid and emergency situations as well as being able to patch up minor wounds. Number two is the reason Soul come back with a different outfit. I think he would not have gotten out of that fall unhurt I also think it ruined his favorite jacket, thus the style change.
> 
> There also might be the fact he’s dating Maka now but that’s implied.
> 
> Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed! Constructive Criticism accepted of course, and any mistakes you found please let me know!


End file.
